


Day 1 - Fish

by wareweasel



Series: Inktober Challenge 2020 [1]
Category: Inktober - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Inktober 2020, Inktober Challenge 2020, Original Fiction, Spooky, inktober day 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:15:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26755657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wareweasel/pseuds/wareweasel
Summary: A fisherman on a placid lake encounters "the big one".
Series: Inktober Challenge 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948951
Kudos: 1





	Day 1 - Fish

**Author's Note:**

> In response to the Inktober prompt "Fish"

Dan Masterson pushed his ten-foot aluminum boat out onto the calm waters of Lake Terrence. It was a picturesque place, with the cold blue ripples of the lake framed by mountain ranges on either side. The smell of pine was strong in his nose, and the earth and water mixed together gave the entire place the smell of serenity and the great outdoors. It was off-season, and the lake was nearly deserted, only the odd fisherman like Dan came around to catch a meal or two on the otherwise empty lake. The wind coming off the mountains was cold, and the leaves were just starting to turn.

Dan unmoored his boat and fired up the small motor, navigating out of the docks and into open water. The gurgling "put-put" of the engine in the water was the only sound made as Dan navigated his way silently across the lake. A small way from shore Dan killed the motor and let the boat drift near his favorite fishing spot and pulled out his tackle box. Dan worked methodically, first prepping his pole and line before selecting a new bait from the box. His hands were rough, weathered, and callous; he had been a carpenter by trade and his hands still retained the smell of wood and had the texture of old leather. They had a mind of their own, having done this a hundred times before, and before long his pole was in the water, small ripples moving out across the lake from their point of origin.

There was nothing left to do now but wait. Dan pulled a small cooler with a blue lid out from under the bench and cracked open the lid. On ice was a six-pack of his favorite beer; he popped a can and took a few swallows, savoring the flavor and enjoying the peace and quiet he had come to cherish during his early retirement. He had always been fond of nature, been drawn to it more than any of his time spent in the city, but one couldn’t exactly take the time to enjoy the outdoors if they didn’t have any money. So, like most people, he had stayed in the city where the jobs were, fought tooth and nail to climb up the corporate ladder before eventually abandoning it all to go into business for himself. Twenty years as an independent carpenter had allowed him to retire with a respectable business that he had left in the care of his grandson, Max. Dan dug around towards the bottom of the cooler until he found a plastic bag, inside was a ham and provolone sandwich, one of several he had packed at the bottom of the cooler for this particular outing. He bit into it with gusto, having eaten only a bite or two of leftovers before leaving the house this morning.

A pull on the line caused Dan to put down his sandwich, and he gripped the pole carefully to not spook his prey. The tug on the line grew more insistent, and Dan braced his feet against the side of the hull; ready to pull back sharply to embed the hook in the fish. All at once, the line went out to show that the fish was running, faster and faster the reel spun as Dan watched in mild astonishment. This thing was powerful and fast! At a certain point, he knew he either had to pull in or cut bait. With hips planted firmly on the bench, Dan pulled back and started to reel in. The line went abruptly slack, and Dan reeled in with all his might, fighting to get the fish closer to the boat. Without warning, there was a mighty wrenching motion that nearly pulled the rod right out of his hands. Dan shouted as he regained his grip on the rod and pulled back, reeling in the line. The fish pulled again, then again, and the line suddenly reeled out at a breaking pace. Dan stood up and pulled and reeled the line, moving carefully towards the motor. This fish was nothing like he had caught before, a real monster, possibly something to take a picture of and show Max, he would like that. Dan fired up the motor and maneuvered the boat to follow the fish, which was still running, the line was almost halfway unspun, and Dan dug in to put up a fight with the big fish.

Suddenly, the fish stopped running, and a giant fin poked out of the water. “That's impossible.” Dan breathed as big, dark, fin cut through the water directly towards the boat. Dan turned the motor to avoid the fin slicing through the waves, but the fish turned directly into his path. Dan fumbled around in his pocket for the knife that he kept there, it had been his grandfather’s knife from back in the war, one which he had planned to give Max the next time he saw him. Dan stood and moved to cut the line and as he did so the fish rammed the boat. Caught off balance, Dan screamed as his legs caught against the bench pitched him sideways into the water. Dan coughed water and groaned as his head broke the surface. He could just catch a glimpse over the little swells of the lake as the motor "put, put" it's way across the lake and out of sight. Spluttering and gasping for air, Dan let go of the pole he was still holding in his hands and fought to pull off the clothes that were weighing him down. As he fought to remove his jacket and shoes he felt the presence of the fish in the water around him, it was sleek and strong and struck him at him - once! twice! Stunned, Dan gave a weak holler and turned to start swimming for shore, he had only just started to kick his feet when something grabbed them with crushing force and pulled him down. Dan let out a quick scream before his head was lost under the murky waters of the lake.

Days passed, and a missing person’s report was filed. Police eventually found an aluminum boat with a beer cooler inside and surmised that the old man must have gotten drunk and fallen into the lake with the motor still on. An unfortunate accident, everyone said. The only other thing in the boat was a small knife, a relic from the old war, that was passed through several hands before finally getting to a young man who owned a carpentry shop.


End file.
